Murder Most Foul
by thewriteday
Summary: Oneshot after Archie's "death." Regina is sick of being judged by the two idiots. What she really needs is to feel in control again. And she knows just the way she wants to go about it. Smutty.


This one is for 2FaceMyFate, who was the 200th follower of Be The Change. I asked for a oneshot prompt and was asked for: something where Regina gets her confidence back, screw what everyone else thinks, perhaps even making a move on Miss Swan. And for it to be post-Archie's "murder." I don't know why or how it turned into smut-ville, but hopefully it'll do. Thanks and I hope you enjoy!

Sidenote: I wrote part of the smut while listening to "Small Town Witch" by Sneaker Pimps, which seems oddly appropriate for this pairing. Give it a listen if you're interested. Reviews are love. ;)

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**Murder Most Foul**

"You have magic?" Regina said, her eyes fluttering slightly. She'd suspected, but it was oddly alluring to know that there was someone else, someone like _her_. Especially since that _someone_ was a certain blonde deputy that had been on her mind far too long with nothing to show for it.

Emma nodded almost imperceptibly and flashed her cocky smile. Regina swallowed, then straightened her spine and smirked at the blonde and her dim-witted parents.

"So how did you do it? See _me _choking Archie?" Regina asked. She folded her arms across her chest.

"Gold gave her an enchanted dreamcatcher to use on Pongo and Emma saw into his memory of what happened. And it was you." James said, a snarl in his tone.

"Well if everything you've told me is true, then I can clear this up very quickly." Regina replied.

"What do you mean clear this up? You're guilty! Emma saw–" Snow tried but Regina was already running over her words with ease.

"What Emma _saw_ was the unreliable proof of a man that makes no secret of hating me. If she in fact has magic, I can prove to her directly that I. Am completely. Innocent." Regina's eyes never left the curious green pair directly in front of her. "Well maybe _completely_ isn't the appropriate word," she added with a side-smile.

Snow stepped up beside her daughter, suddenly feeling out-of-the-loop and regretting coming here at all.

"And just how do you intend to prove it when there's indisputable evidence against you? We _all saw_ you!" Snow huffed.

Regina finally looked at her former step-daughter. _Just as ignorant and obtuse as she was when she was 8 years old._ Regina thought.

"Do you believe _everything_ your eyes tell you? I seem to recall that very recently during your field trip back home, you were fooled by my mother, who impersonated one of your dear friends. And you didn't suspect a thing. Yet now you see something second-hand – through the eyes of a dog, I might add – and you don't question it for a moment?"

Emma's heartbeat quickened as the woman spoke. She was right; it didn't make sense. Regina would never do something so obvious. She was clever. It was one of the things Emma liked about her. One of many in fact.

"And as for the way I will prove it," Regina continued. She turned to look hungrily at Emma again. "That's between your daughter and I."

"If you think we're going to leave you alone with Emma–" James began, but like his wife he was quickly shut down by the former mayor.

"That's _exactly_ what I think. I'd like to give my proof to someone who isn't already utterly convinced of my guilt. Am I correct in assuming you are not yet convinced, Miss Swan?" Regina asked in a sinfully sweet voice.

Emma hesitated for a moment, trying to figure out exactly what Regina was asking her. She was pretty sure she understood.

"You are." Emma admitted. Regina beamed.

"Emma? You can't be serious." Snow said, grasping at the blonde's arm.

Emma tilted her head and looked at her mother.

"I _told _you. When we were interrogating her, she was telling the truth. Something doesn't _fit _about the whole thing. Besides which, as sheriff, I have to investigate both sides. If Regina can prove she didn't do it, she deserves to be heard. And you two clearly can't keep a clear head about it." Emma said.

Snow looked hard into Emma's face, searching for some kind of manipulation being enacted. All she saw was the woman's gruff determination.

"Maybe you're right." Snow said finally.

"Snow?" James said, unsure he'd heard correctly. She turned to him.

"Maybe we're letting our feelings about Regina get in the way of what's right. When Cora pretended to be Lancelot… I couldn't even tell the difference!"

James nodded.

"Okay."

In the doorway Regina checked her watch as if she had no time to spare on the Charmings' rationalizations. They had, after all, taken an extra five minutes to get to the conclusions _she'd_ already drawn for them. James looked at Regina.

"But I still don't understand why we can't be there when you present your 'proof' to Emma. We were there when Gold did it." He said.

Regina rolled her eyes.

"Because, as your daughter has already pointed out, _neither_ of you can be impartial."

Emma didn't confirm or deny the fact. She didn't have to. When no one said anything else, Regina curled her fingers carefully around the blonde's arm. Emma flinched but didn't draw back from the touch.

"Now. If there are no further incessant questions, the sheriff and I have some things to straighten out." Regina flashed a wicked grin before yanking Emma through the doorway and slamming it shut behind them.

James and Snow hardly had time to exchange their looks of concern before the door abruptly opened again. Regina leaned out, her hand still on the doorframe.

"Oh. And don't bother waiting around like lost puppies on my doorstep. We're going to be a while. Run along!" She added a little shooing gesture.

With that the door slammed shut again, leaving the Charmings alone with their worries over just what exactly would take such a long time.

Safely inside, Regina let out a satisfied sigh.

"A little harsh, dontcha think?" Emma said. Her posture was stiff; her hands were shoved in her pockets, just like they'd been outside the diner the other night.

Regina tilted her chin slightly.

"I'm sorry, dear. I seem to lose my manners when I'm being charged with a brutal murder I didn't commit and being threatened with the denial of my son." Regina said through an unapologetic smile.

She stepped away from the door and bent over slightly, slipping off her heeled boots with ease. Emma realized she was staring at the other woman and sat down to do the same with her slightly more difficult pair.

Regina, now shoeless, watched in amusement at the difficulty Emma was having. She hadn't even removed one toe yet.

Regina sighed dramatically.

"Sit here, Miss Swan." Regina pointed at the second step of the staircase.

Emma just stared at the woman for a moment, dumbstruck. Regina raised her eyebrows at the younger woman but said nothing, waiting for Emma to comply.

Emma finally lifted herself off the hallway floor and made her way to where Regina was standing. She sat down slowly on the indicated step, still eying the brunette cautiously.

Regina sank carefully to her knees in front of the blonde, catching Emma's bewildered gaze and little hitch of breath. Regina took the right boot in her hands. She began to loosen it, shifting it to either side down the length of Emma's calf. When she was satisfied with the wiggle room, she placed one hand under the crook of Emma's knee and pulled the boot free with the other, setting it aside and lowering Emma's foot back to the step.

Emma, meanwhile, couldn't breathe. She observed Regina's methodical undertaking on the second boot, feeling a bit like a child being assisted by a doting mother.

Only Emma was definitely _not_ a child. And Regina was definitely _not _her mother. And the way Emma's entire body flushed with heat when Regina lifted her thigh made the assistance feel much less than wholesome.

Regina set the second boot beside the first and then rose gracefully to her feet again. Emma watched and gulped as she tried to remember how to speak.

"So… the evidence?" Emma managed.

The queen smirked.

"Follow me," Regina said. She stepped past the blonde and headed up the stairs. Emma turned to watch her ascent, horrified by the sudden burst of heat between her thighs when she got a worm's-eye view up Regina's dress, enough to see the dark apex of her black pantyhose.

Emma scrambled to her feet, wondering if she should run straight out the front door in her socks while she still had the chance.

"Coming or not?" Regina said, looking down over the banister. She didn't wait for an answer, merely turned away and disappeared into the bedroom behind her.

Emma thought this must be what the Evil Queen's prisoners had felt before getting their hearts ripped out and stomped on – an absurd mixture of fear and arousal.

Emma began her death march up the stairs. She edged her head into the bedroom doorway when she reached the top, afraid of what she might find inside. What was there was worse than she had imagined.

Regina was sitting on the bed, legs crossed over the side, one foot swinging lightly back and forth in an impatient rhythm. Her hands were set on the bed behind her, propping her up. The position put her chest on ample display in the low-cut black dress.

Emma shuffled into the room and stood about eight feet from the bed, just to be safe. Regina suppressed the urge to smirk again.

"So how does this work, exactly?" Emma said, focusing most of her effort on keeping her eyes levelled with Regina's and not at the expanse of stockinged legs.

Regina said nothing, just patted the space beside her on the bed. Emma instinctively shook her head, like a child refusing to sit next to the scary clown. The scary… sexy… clown.

"Oh come on, Emma. I won't hurt you. Scout's honour," Regina raised three fingers, offering her swear.

"Forgive me if that isn't that comforting," Emma said, but she made her way over to sit beside the queen anyway. She landed thigh to thigh with her and immediately slid further away. Regina sat up straight, bringing her hands to rest in her lap

"Well then take comfort in the fact that your parents are, no doubt, still out front trying to figure out what the hell just happened." Regina said.

Emma laughed, picturing her parents' bewildered, wide eyes looking around in a daze.

"That one actually works." Emma affirmed. She was beginning to relax again. There wasn't _really _anything to be scared of, right? Nothing wrong with two adults, sitting on a bed, shooting the shit, about to magically transfer some memories or some such nonsense. No, nothing wrong with that at all. Emma looked at Regina, realizing how just how close they were to one another. The woman was wearing that godawful smirk again.

"Regina? Sometime today?" Emma said weakly. The sooner she could speed this process along, the sooner she could stop wondering whether the brunette was wearing underwear under her tights.

Regina moved to a kneeling position on the bed, her dress hiking further up her thighs. She pulled at Emma to face her and the blonde turned and sat cross-legged on the bed. Regina's expression was suddenly very serious.

"You needed a tool to read the dog's mind, but both you and I can use magic, and as such, we can pluck memories from each other directly." Regina said.

"Like picking apples?" Emma replied amusedly.

"If you like, dear," Regina said. "I need you to concentrate on emptying your mind of everything except the memory you are looking for. Memory needs a place to go and if you are, for instance, distracted," the corners of Regina's mouth lifted, only for a moment, as if she had some secret from her, "then it will be near impossible for you to find the night in question. Understood?"

"Wait. How will I know that the memory you're showing me is actually from the night Archie was killed?

"I can't control what you see; you have to do the finding. My mind is like a pond and you are the fisherman. It is up to you to use the proper lure."

"Okay… so what do I do?" Emma asked.

"To start, put your hands on either side of my head." Regina instructed.

Emma hesitantly placed both hands against Regina's cheeks, her own cheeks flushing with heat at the sensation of the soft skin in her palms.

"A little further up, dear." Regina chuckled. Emma – virgin to magic. _My, this __**will**__ be fun._ Regina thought.

"Now close your eyes. Empty your mind." Regina added.

Emma followed the instructions but felt nothing. She said as such.

"You'll have to try harder, then. And here I thought the emptying part would come so naturally to you."

Emma bore down and ignored the remark, focusing more deeply.

She suddenly felt like she was drifting into a kind of sleep, like she was being pulled by a lapping tide, away from herself. From somewhere far off, she could hear Regina's voice guiding her.

"Now pick a memory we _share_ to test it – don't tell me which one, simply focus on the _when _of it and pull from my mind into yours."

Emma felt herself plunged deep into a sort-of ocean. She swam down until she emerged, completely dry, in a stairwell in city hall. The scene she'd been fishing for – the night of the fire – was exactly how she'd remembered it, except this time she was looking through a different set of eyes. With no control, she only watched the steps in front of her as Regina's feet descended.

She knew the version of herself in the memory was trying not to tackle the mayor down the stairs or stop her and shake her by the shoulders to make her understand that her son was miserable. Regina, meanwhile, was advising her on the dangers of Mr. Gold.

"He's a snake, Ms. Swan. You need to be careful who you get into bed with." She watched Regina's hand open the door and release a dizzying burst of flames into the stairwell. She couldn't feel the force of the wood that hit Regina's ankle, but she could hear the mayor's cry of pain.

Over the din of the scene unfolding around her, Emma heard Regina's voice, the _somewhere_ voice, egg her along again.

"If you're satisfied the method works, Miss Swan, you may move on whenever you like. Unless you'd rather keep reliving old glories."

Emma tried unsuccessfully to roll Regina's eyes from within the memory. She quickly gave up.

She settled for renewing her energy and emptying her mind again, clearing it of the memory she'd just drawn out. This time she focused on the day of Archie's death and the specific time of day – Ruby closing up the store, Snow having tea with James by the window, Henry insisting she sit and read one more comic with him, Gold doing whatever the hell he did at that time of night – she let the mood of that hour, the sense of it, guide her down into the ocean again, drifting into a new scene as she emerged.

She found herself in Regina's house, but in darkness. She was on the first floor in the den. Once again she was thrust into Regina's point of view. The fireplace was bright, filled with hot tendrils, and in front of it sat Regina. Regina and a bottle of cognac. This memory seemed tilted somehow, swaying a bit. The bottle was only half full. Emma figured the woman had indulged in at least a healthy helping up to this point.

If Emma had aimed it right, this was just before Archie's time of death. Which meant that the perfectly poised Regina that Emma had seen in Pongo's memory could not have been the same as this one. Not to mention _this_ Regina was too far away to make it to Archie's office in time to do the deed.

She expected Regina's somewhere voice to interrupt her, to pull her out of this voyeurism, but she heard nothing. So instead of drifting back to herself, Emma continued to watch the scene through Regina's eyes. The woman picked up the bottle and hoisted herself to her feet, nearly falling headfirst into the fire, but catching herself in time. She swayed even more when she was upright.

Emma watched the perspective tilt as the woman headed up the stairs, using her hands to help herself up as she stumbled, still clutching the bottle of cognac in one hand.

Eventually the ambling form made it into the bedroom – where Emma and Regina currently sat in present day – and she looked out of Regina's eyes as the woman let her head fall back against the pillows. With some difficulty, she propped the bottle on the nightstand; by some miracle leaving it right-side up.

Emma thought that would be the end, that the brunette would pass out immediately in moonlit room. But then she saw Regina's right hand travel over her breasts lightly before sliding down her stomach and inside the front of her pants. She heard Regina let out a simple sigh of relief.

Emma – the one in the present, the one in the room with her hands on either side of Regina's head – awoke so abruptly from the state of memory that she gasped for air, as if emerging from an ocean begging for breath. She took in the sight of Regina: eyes closed, lips just barely open. Emma dropped her hands from the woman's head. She meant to fold them over her crossed legs, but before she could do so, she registered the presence of a pair of hands _already_ lying in her lap. Regina's hands.

They weren't moving, just _lying_ there, rested on her ankles, painfully close to Emma's crotch. She gulped, her hands still up in the air above her knees. She wasn't sure what to do with them now, or how to extract herself from this situation.

The woman stirred.

When Emma summoned the courage to look up into Regina's eyes, she was met with a knowing stare and a sly smile.

"Are you satisfied, sheriff?" Regina purred. Her hands, instead of withdrawing from Emma's lap, draped themselves over Emma's thighs. Emma couldn't shake Regina's memory: how those hands had groped and slid down the beautiful body, slipping easily into–

"Uhh, yep. Yeah, everything seems kosher here, I should probably get going." Emma moved to slide off of the bed, but Regina's hands pressed down more firmly against her thighs, willing her to stay.

Regina leaned in closer as she spoke. "Then what's the rush? You know I'm not a murderer… not lately, that is."

Emma's hands were still unoccupied in mid-air and now in dangerous need of something to ground her, to drive out the absolutely insane thoughts bouncing around in her overactive brain. Her right hand clutched at her belt and gripped the shining, gold plate attached to it.

"You know, I _gave _you that badge." Regina husked.

"I was elected. You just presented it to me." Emma said quickly, trying to stop her voice from cracking like a pubescent boy's.

"Semantics." Regina said dismissively. "Besides, I was glad you won. Although I would _love_ to see you in the uniform sometime." Regina's face was inches from her own. She could feel puffs of air from the woman's lips.

"You would?" Emma said since the thoughts required to form any other coherent thought escaped her. Her eyes kept dropping to Regina's smooth red lips.

"Oh yes."

Regina swooped in and took Emma's bottom lip firmly between her own. Her hand went to the back of Emma's hair, winding through it, holding her close so she couldn't pull away.

Emma felt dizzy and confused and was still trying to plot the course from point-A to point-making-out-with-Regina.

Regina didn't wait for the thoughts to straighten themselves out in Emma's head. If she waited that long, she figured they'd be there all day. Which, come to think of it, was not so unappealing an idea.

Regina brought both of her hands to wind in the folds of the Sheriff's grey cardigan as she leaned back and slid like a panther back into the pillows on her bed, laying her body out flat. She dragged the Sheriff along with her and Emma followed like a horse being led to graze.

Regina spread her legs – her dress hitched high and her pantyhose on full display – and pulled the blonde between them. She forced the cardigan from Emma's shoulders and Emma frantically attempted to pull it off of her arms, making a damn fool of herself as she struggled to tear it off.

Regina chuckled at the display, her fingers teasing the sheriff's stomach in an oddly affectionate gesture. Emma finally wrenched the second sleeve from her arm, tossing the cardigan somewhere behind her. She leaned back down over Regina's body, trying to recover any sex appeal she had left after her latest clumsy interlude. She'd been having those a _lot _ever since she met Regina, like the woman's presence alone was enough to trip her up.

Regina kissed her again, pouring her tongue into Emma's mouth, controlling the speed, the depth, everything. Her hands stroked down Emma's sides and down farther until she could slip her hands under Emma's jeans and grab both cheeks of her ass. Emma gasped into her mouth.

"_Like_ that, dear?" Regina husked. Emma only nodded, her eyes firmly shut. Regina groped more firmly and then pulled at the underwear, pulling it tightly against the woman's crotch.

"Shit, Regina," Emma breathed and looked down at the brunette. How the hell could she be this in charge when she was the one on her back? _Because she's always in charge._ Emma thought.

Regina's hands exited the jeans and rose quickly to Emma's shoulders. Emma had less than a second to be confused before Regina flipped them, straddling Emma's body beneath her.

She grinned madly at the blonde whose face was the picture of surprise and arousal. Emma's hands instinctively rose to Regina's thighs, dragging her palms along them. Regina let one of her own hands travel down to the tights as well, but hers went straight over her centre, stroking lightly at first, picking up speed and pressure as she went, never once breaking her gaze from Emma's.

Emma watched the brunette's face as she touched herself, her kneading hand bumping up against Emma's own needy crotch. She swallowed, resisting the compulsion to drool.

"Hungry, are we?" Regina husked. She didn't wait for confirmation.

Regina looked down and brought her other hand to join the first. Emma watched in utter captivation. Regina pulled at the tights, tearing them enough to expose the entire space between her thighs. The space that was overwhelmingly bare beneath the black nylon.

"Fuck." Emma said breathily. "Were you like that the whole day?" She was thinking specifically about the interrogation at the police station, when Emma had been sitting on a table in front of the woman, trying not to look down the front of her dress.

Regina smirked again. "What do _you_ think?" Regina removed herself from her position around Emma's hips and Emma nearly yanked her back, afraid she'd be left high and dry after the extraordinary performance.

She soon realized this was not so. Regina was merely moving up the bed to reposition herself. She put her knees on either side of Emma's head, looking straight down at her willing prisoner.

"Open up, princess." Regina said, then lowered herself to Emma's dutifully-open, waiting mouth.

The brunette sighed at the first touch of a hesitant tongue to her heat. The tongue poked at her a bit, then dragged up and down along her folds. Regina stared down into wide, green eyes as she kept her body completely still, resisting the urge to move her hips.

Emma realized she was being handed control – sort of – and she brought her arms up and around Regina's thighs to hold her more firmly against her mouth. She began to swirl her tongue in her best attempt at cursive letters all over the hot flesh. She turned her head and landed bites along the inside of Regina's thigh, earning a gasp from the brunette.

But Regina quickly put an end to the teasing, reaching down into Emma's hair and turning her head by force back to her centre.

"_No_ one makes me wait." Regina growled. A chill ran through Emma's body and she pulled all of Regina's mound into her mouth again, letting her tongue wander in and out of her.

"Much better," Regina said. Her eyes fluttered a little at a deft swipe of the eager tongue. Regina gave into her own need and began to rock her hips lightly against Emma's mouth.

Emma's hands travelled up to roam over Regina's breasts, brushing only lightly at first, then grabbing at her roughly with needy fingers. Regina's hands joined them and held them harder against her. She continued to roll her hips back and forth, increasing speed.

Emma sucked at her clit and Regina exhaled sharply, one hand reaching down into Emma's hair again to hold the delicious pressure against her. She began to rock even harder now, keeping one hand against Emma's head, readying for her impending release.

Regina was moaning now, little hums of pleasure that Emma could feel rushing through every inch of her body.

"Don't you dare stop." Regina said breathily.

The thought hadn't even occurred to Emma.

With one last deep pull at Regina's clit, the brunette's orgasm came crashing in, her body writhing against Emma's face. Emma took her hand from the woman's chest and put it to her waist to support her. She drank her in, thrilling in every fresh taste on her tongue.

Regina's body finally slumped, the tension falling out of every muscle. She lifted herself from Emma's face and moved back down her body, bringing their faces to an equal position again. With her breathing restored, she put her lips to Emma's and tasted herself.

Regina pulled back and rolled over to lay alongside Emma's body. "Now don't you think that was a better use of your mouth than accusations, Miss Swan?"

"I'll have to agree with you there," Emma pulled the pins from her hair. It was too messy to bother putting them back in, so she pocketed them and eyed the woman beside her. She was suddenly at a strange precipice, unsure of what the next move was. When the brunette just looked at her, a sly smile tugging at her mouth and a glint in her deep brown eyes, Emma gulped.

"So I guess I should probably just–" Emma moved to slide off of the bed but Regina grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back to press against her body.

"Oh no, Emma. I'm not even _remotely_ done with you." Regina said low into Emma's ear.

She slipped her hand down and into the front of Emma's pants, under the briefs she was wearing, and cupped her firmly.

Emma gasped at the press of the soft hand to her painfully hard clit.

"Oh god," Emma breathed.

"Not quite, dear." Regina husked. She began to move her hand in slow circles against Emma's centre.

Emma finally understood just why the Regina had told her parents they'd be a while.

* * *

Snow and James were seated on Regina's front step, waiting anxiously.

Snow's chin was resting in her hands when she finally huffed in defeat.

"What the hell is taking so long?"

James shrugged.

"Maybe it's a longer process than with the dreamcatcher." He offered. He didn't really believe himself.

Snow leapt to her feet.

"Well we've waited long enough!" She said resolutely. She went to knock at the door when the two of them heard a very loud, very heated cry from the second floor window. From Regina's window.

Snow turned around, her face completely pale, and locked eyes with James.

"Was that–?" Snow began, afraid to finish the sentence.

"Emma." James confirmed.

"But then she…" Snow tried.

"And Regina." James added, stupefied.

Snow swallowed hard. She stepped quickly from the door, grabbing her husband's arm and dragging him away from the house.

"We can wait just as easily at home!"


End file.
